


Due North

by Linnrinn



Series: Death Is Only The Beginning... [13]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:54:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29709168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Linnrinn/pseuds/Linnrinn
Summary: Joe and Nicky talk about family while island hunting during their vacation in Malta. When you're lost, it helps to find north again.
Relationships: Andy | Andromache of Scythia/Quynh | Noriko, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: Death Is Only The Beginning... [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2066418
Comments: 1
Kudos: 34





	Due North

**Author's Note:**

> So, i sent everyone in the Guard on vacation and this is Joe and Nicky's! 
> 
> if you haven't read my other stories, you would be able to get through most of it just fine but it does refer to some things that you would need context for. or at least read Andy and Quynh's vacation, and Nile with Booker for some idea.
> 
> truth to tell, i wrote this story once and wasn't fond of it. it sucks that moment you know a story isn't working and knowing you will have to throw it out and start over. but if you are wiling to do the work, you are much likely to find something better around the corner. i'm much happier with it the second time around.

Gazing at Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Nicky itemized the things he loved about his husband. His hair was definitely a highlight: gorgeous dark curls that shone in the rising sun of the late morning and were deliciously riotous from the ocean breeze whipping past them. It matched his thick eyebrows that Nicky longed to trace with his finger, along with his masculine nose and cheekbones. Joe’s eyes were also a favorite of his: a deep brown hue that he could stare at for hours. His mental list also boasted Joe’s hands which were large and callused from both sword welding and painting alike. Those hands gripped the wheel of the fishing boat’s helm, deftly manipulating it and the other instruments along the boat’s dashboard. Seeing those hands do just about anything made his mouth go dry and something ache in his chest.

Nicky categorized all the unseen things as well. This man chose to love him despite his many egregious sins. He dared to look at a broken, difficult world and find the beauty in it. He did nothing in halves, and poured himself into whatever his aim was. Nicky prayed he would never take this man for granted.

He also prayed that God would save him from his husband’s incessant stubbornness.

“Joe.”

There was no answer from the man next to him. Instead, Joe continued to steer their fishing boat across the ocean’s waters, doggedly refusing to acknowledge him.

“Joe.” Nicky called again.

This time his husband only peered at him under those lovely eyebrows with sulking reluctance.

“Joe,” Nicky tried again, affectionate exasperation in his tone.

“No.” The answer was petulant.

“Baby,” Nicky attempted to console him.

“Don’t.” Joe huffed back.

“ _Amore_.”

Joe pointed a finger imperiously at him. “Don’t you dare.”

Nicky groaned. “ _Habibi_.”

“I won’t hear it,” Joe insisted stubbornly.

“ _Mio tesoro_ ,” Nicky tried to reason.

“Nope.”

“Beloved.”

“I am not-” Joe finally started.

“I think we are-” Nicky continued.

“LOST.” They both concluded together.

The boat slowed to a standstill, Joe looking disgruntled and Nicky doing his best not to burst into laughter at his husband’s affronted look.

“Admit it, _mio tesoro_. You are lost.”

“I am not lost.” Joe sniffed haughtily.

“You are.” Nicky tried hard not to grin. Really hard. But he failed and a full smile broke out on his face.

“I know it’s in this direction. I remember it exactly.”

“It’s really not. It’s only a few miles from Malta’s coast and we should have seen it by now if it was. I told you an hour ago your heading is off.” He pointed to the compass mounted to the flybridge’s console. Then he pointed to a specific area on the navigational screen. “We should be headed here.”

Centuries ago, both men had made an adventure of finding and visiting all of the eighteen uninhabited islands of the Maltese archipelago. Some were quite small, mere islets. But they’d found one that had quickly become their favorite. It was about an acre or two, a small rock that dipped like a lopsided cake and boasted a small, sandy beach. There was no other life on it except for plants and animals and the occasional scientist cataloguing said plants and animals. Their vacations in Malta always boasted at least one day trip to the island.

Joe opened his mouth to argue and then stopped short when he looked at the display closer. Nicky smiled. The unfortunate thing about immortality was that it seems to have very polarized results on one’s memories. Some things seemed ingrained, archived with such explicit and unforgettable detail, while other things were left to the realm of “I don’t even remember what I don’t remember” or “I thought I might have dreamed that, did it even happen?”

“Fine,” the darker haired man grumbled reluctantly. “I’m lost.” He reached into a compartment of the console and pulled out a map, spreading it over the dashboard and leaning down to study it intently.

“Do you want help?”

“No, I got it,” Joe muttered determinedly.

“Alright love,” Nicky smiled in amusement, leaning back to recline on the padded benches of the flybridge. He felt little hurry to rush Joe, despite being confident he knew where to find their destination. Instead, he allowed the moment it’s dues, having no morning engagements or demanding schedules that interfered with spontaneity or taking one’s time. The unspoken rule for them was that Maltese vacations were free of any conventional calendar and daily schedule. They ate when their stomach or cravings beckoned and lingered for hours at tourist attractions and historic sites despite having seen them through the ages, letting impulsivity and inclination determine their days.

“Do you want to go cave diving in Gozo?” He asked absently. “You mentioned feeling adventurous, lately.”

Joe’s hummed contemplatively. “Swimming will wear me out and then we will have to stay at a hotel for the night instead of our bed at home.” They owned a beachside home on the north shores of Malta, around Mellieha.

Nicky chuckled. “The ferry does not take long between islands, my love.”

Joe shook his head. “I shall be far too lazy to wait. And the sound of you and I in our bed far outweighs any desire to be adventurous.”

“Then shall we stay close to home? Armier Beach is not far. We can spend the day and return home.”

Joe reached over with a hand and ran a finger over Nicky’s nose and cheekbones. “Last time we were there you burned so bad your face peeled.”

“I fell asleep and forgot to reapply,” Nicky huffed. He swiped Joe’s hat off the seat where he’d set it and placed it on his head to block the sun. “The peeling only lasted an hour or two.”

“If you weren’t immortal, you would have blistered.”

The younger man nodded. “Alright. What about a throwback? Some neolithic temples? Hagar Qim? Mnajdra temples? The Tarxien temples?”

“I’m feeling a bit more modern,” Joe mused, turning away from the map entirely as he was drawn into the conversation.

“Mosta Dome? St. John’s Cathedral? Fort St. Elmo? All of them are beautiful structures.”

His husband lit up with interest. “Shall we head to Valleta tomorrow? We can see the fort and the cathedral. We’ll spend the day in the city, eating at the cafes, reading in Barraka Gardens. You could shoot the sunset in Seneglea, if you’d like? I know you’ve been wanting a good shot of it for years and still haven’t been satisfied.”

While Joe was the artist of the two, Nicky excelled in only one thing in comparison: photography. Joe often maintained that it was the trained, keen eye of a sniper that lent him his talents. Nicky remained adamant that he was only fair at it, which would baffle Joe to no end. Malta, with its gorgeous natural scenery blended with sprawling historical architecture made it a gorgeous place to shoot.

Fondly, Nicky thought of the cathedrals, medieval forts and other remnants of centuries past that stood so proudly next to the modern structures of the present day. Malta was a befitting reflection of the two of them: a blend of the ancient old and the modern new, the past existing in the present while awaiting the future.

It was a city that boasted Christianity in spades, from its cathedrals, to its forts. It had housed a branch of a Christian military order, the Knights of St. John, that had involvements and responsibility in the first crusades, a soiled past that Nicky was familiar with. And yet, the heart of the Maltese language was based in Arabic origins, having its roots in Maghrebi Arabic dialect that reminded Nicky of his husband whenever he heard the locals speaking. Malta had been, for a time, ruled by Arabic empires, during which Christians and Muslims co-existed, though sadly the rest of it’s history was characterized by polarization to Christianity and assimilation into European culture.

It was a blend of cultures, influences and civilizations over centuries, some of it ugly, and some of it beautiful and harmonious. Its ancient history endured while making room for the future. Nicky liked to believe that, even with the blood and hate and ignorance that defined their own history, they could always continue to move to a future of love and understanding and justice.

“I would like to find time to go to the Ta ‘Quali craft village” Joe added, interrupting his husband’s musings. “And a concert or performance at Manoel theater.”

“As long as we go horse riding in Golden Bay, I will go wherever you go,” Nicky bartered.

“You are so easy to please,” Joe quipped, moving to place his hands on the backrests of the benches, effectively caging his husband in between his arms. Bracing himself atop Nicky, Joe sat himself in his lap, his thighs framing him. With soft kisses, he ran his bearded jaw over Nicky’s stubbled one. Breathing deeply, Nicky let his love’s scent wash over him and weight of his muscular frame press comfortingly over his.

“If we go to a performance, I will get to see you dress up. It is little hardship,” Nicky grinned, eyeing Joe’s frame up and down with blatant appreciation. “Now. Would you like me to drive?”

Joe paused and then gave a long-suffering groan. His head thunked down onto Nicky’s shoulder. “Yes.”

Nicky grinned, giving Joe a solid kiss before rolling to deposit him onto the bench and take his place at the helm.

“I won’t get lost next time.”

“You said that the last three times.” Nicky reminded him as he adjusted the navigation and placed his hands on the wheel and thrusters.

“Next time, I won’t.”

“Alright, babe,” Nicky agreed out loud despite believing the very opposite. He smothered a grin when Joe gave him a suspicious look before he reclined to lay down on the bench and soak in the sunshine.

The gentle lull of the boat and the warmth of the sun rocked them into comfortable laziness. The only sounds for the next few minutes was that of the waves gently butting against the hull. The salty, Malta air ruffled their hair and clothes. There was no discomfort in the absence of conversation, rather the deep and familiarly comforting presence of two people who needed no words to convey intimacy. Moment’s like these left them both quiet and contemplative.

Nicky stared out across the blue expanse of the Mediterranean, thoughts taking a turn towards something that had been on his mind for a while. It had crept up on him slowly, almost as imperceptible as water weathering down a rock face, but now quite evident as he stopped to think back over the past few years. “Am I the only one that feels lost at sea right now?”

Joe opened his eyes, as they had drifted closed, and turned his head to look at Nicky curiously.

“Not at this moment. I mean, in this season in life. Like there is much unsolved and unknown. A ship without wind in its sails or stars to direct its course by.”

Joe thought of the last few decades, of the sum of changes and difficulties they’d endured. Of Quynh’s continued journey towards healing and missing Booker and Nile’s first decades as a new immortal. He shook his head. “No, you are not the only one. I feel rather unmoored myself. Having trouble finding north.”

Nicky gave him a thoughtful look. “I feel like we need to find our heading again.”

“Pull out the compass, so to speak?” Joe smiled.

Nicky nodded. Joe stood, reaching out to stand behind Nicky, plastering his chest to the other man’s back and wrapping his arms around his torso. Nicky gave in fully to the embrace, knowing how much Joe thrived on touch.

Malta was their place of rest, healing and mending. It was also the place where they retreated to reorient and redirect their course, deciding how they wanted to proceed and what they wanted to pursue in the next few years. Every visit, they took time to process what life had dealt them recently and look towards the coming years and what their goals were. It kept them of one mind, facing challenges and difficulties with a united front, shoulder to shoulder.

“Andy called me a few days after we arrived,’ Joe finally said quietly.

Nicky noted the subdued tone. “Everything alright with her and Quynh?”

Joe nodded absently, looking out at the ocean reflecting the light of the sun. “They are in Hanoi and will travel to Tra Vinh in a week or so. Andy sounded..strained.”

Do you think they are not doing well?” Nicky asked in concern.

The other man sighed. “I have learned my lesson after Booker. I think that Quynh is struggling with more than we see. I think it is worrying Andy.”

Nicky frowned. “What can we do?”

Joe swayed back and forth ever so slightly, as if rocking them both in comfort. “We love them, support them, listen and be patient.”

The other man sighed. “Easier said than done. What is the right way to support them? What does that look like? The best way to love and listen? When does patience slide into too hands off, like what happened with Booker?”

Joe sighed. “I’m not sure.”

“You’re supposed to be the intellect of us two,” Nicky joked ruefully, reaching up to adjust the thrusters and speed of the vessel as it skimmed through the water at a sedate pace.

“Hardly. I’ve always considered you the smart one.” The dark hair man sighed again. “How about this: knowing our goals is enough to set us out on the right path. If we seek out those things, I think eventually we will find them. The whole Baader-Meinhof phenomenon.”

“Frequency illusion. Red car syndrome. Your awareness of something increases once you’ve been introduced to it or endeavor to notice it.” Nicky thought about it and then nodded in affirmation. “I can work with that. Now that we are aware and intentional about it, we will see chances to do so. They are both strong. They will be alright. And we will be there to help them.”

Nicky felt Joe hesitate and it called his attention. He slowed the boat and turned to Joe, waiting patiently while studying him. Joe’s face was contemplative rather than distressed, so Nicky didn’t immediately worry.

“Yusuf?” He asked gently.

“Andy asked for my permission on something before she and Quynh left for Vietnam.”

Nicky cocked his head in thought. Joe hadn’t mentioned it. It did not feel that Joe was hiding something and he felt no anger at not having been informed. Rather, he was surprised that the information was just now coming up. Waiting to tell him meant that whatever the call was about made Joe want to time to think it over.

“Booker is coming back.”

Nicky paused, surprised, but not altogether averse or reluctant to the idea. He’d originally voted for a twenty-year exile from the family, while Joe had been adamant that one hundred years was more befitting. That plan had effectively gone down the drain with Quynh’s return and Kozak’s attempt to finish Merrick’s work. It had been a few decades since they’d tied off those loose ends and Booker had left, this time of his own accord, on a self walkabout, determined to find some healing for his sake and theirs.

“He is coming back to stay?”

“Sounds like it. He is meeting up with Nile first. Probably the best person to start with.”

Nicky recalled the anger that both of them had felt upon Booker’s betrayal. He’d been no less angry than Joe, but just in a different way and for different reasons. Joe had been loud, forceful and fiery in his presentation, mostly stemming from hurt and confusion.

Nicky’s had been resolutely quiet, indignant that booker would do ill towards others and feeling frustrated that he’d not come to them for help. It had also left him feeling vulnerable, because he knew that type of mistake all too well. He’d lay on that table angry at Booker while an even older and more familiar shame made him angry at himself.

He’d emotionally separated, hiding behind cold anger like a shield, while Joe wielded his as a weapon. They were two halves of the same whole and it had taken years for them to work through it. It would take even more to fully come to terms with all the ways the betrayal had affected them. They’d forgiven Booker, after rescuing him from Kozak, but their accelerated physical healing didn’t have an effect on the mending speed of one’s heart.

“How do you feel about it?”

Joe paused, taking stock introspectively. “I think I’m ok.” He seemed surprised to admit it. “I’ve forgiven him. Doesn’t mean all the pain and anger from that day is gone, but I can deal with it and put it aside so that Booker can come back to us. I’m glad the family will be back together and that Booker is figuring his shit out.”

“But?” Nicky knew his husband well.

“But I’m afraid of what it will be like when he comes back. Forever irreparable? Not the same ever again? What if it just going to be lukewarm bearing with each other.”

Nicky felt his chest ache. Joe loved their little brother and feared never having a good relationship again. His hands slid to frame his husbands face, urging him to meet his gaze and hear him. “It’s true that things change, _amore_ , but that does not mean it won’t ever be good again. It will be different; it has to be. But place hope in the fact that this different will be better.”

Joe leaned into Nicky’s caress, a hesitant but hopeful look in his dark eyes. “It seems too much to ask for.”

“It isn’t,” he assured the other man. “Not when he is healing and we are healing. Together, we can heal as a family.”

“It will take time. And effort. For all of us. And it may get worse before it gets better.”

Nicky nodded. “As do all the important things in life.”

“Then I want that for us all.”

“And that is where we will start,” Nicky agreed. When his husband reached up to clasp their hands together and cradle them to his chest, he felt his heart swell in his chest.

“Do you wish to discuss anything, love?” Joe asked quietly.

“Nile.”

Joe nodded in agreement. Nicky once again turned back to the helm and eased a lever forward. The boat climbed to a comfortable cruising speed.

“What about our little sister?” Joe prompted.

“As a family it is all of our responsibilities to grow and teach her.”

“Yes,” the taller man agreed.

“She is getting crash courses from all of us in martial arts, weapons, languages, history, and essential other things, but there is something she has yet to receive from us.”

“And what is that, love?”

“A sword.” Nicky answered. “I haven’t thought of what kind it would be yet, but we all have one-”

“Booker doesn’t.”

“Booker has one, he just doesn’t carry it around with him.” Nicky reminded him, thinking of Booker’s cavalry saber that he’d rarely seen.

Joe craned his neck to peer at Nicky’s thoughtful face. “Not that I am opposed to the idea, but it sounds like you have a reason for this.”

“I want her to feel like a full-fledged member of this family, no matter how new to us. It will make her feel included and one of us.” Nicky received a kiss for his reasoning.

“That is truly thoughtful of you, habibi.”

“Although I was hoping you’d have some suggestions-”

“A rapier,” Joe responded with such immediate swiftness that Nicky turned to give him a surprised look.

His husband shrugged in response. “Been thinking about it for a while now. While it can slash at times, it is more suited towards piercing that hacking to cause damage indiscriminately. It is an exact and calculated weapon, deliberate in delivery and used in a linear and forward advancing trajectory. You will only kill if you aim with specific intent to do so. Is that not our Nile? She is so selective and careful with the sanctity of life, only taking it when she must and not a moment before, but always determined to moved forward towards her goals.”

“Rapiers are rather suited to application outside of battle,” Nicky observed. “Mostly dueling rather than battle.”

“We need someone who will look to our future outside of battle as much as in it,” Joe answered firmly, taking his place once again behind Nicky’s frame.

Nicky thought his husband’s words over and then smiled in agreement. “Well put, love. She is good for us, is she not? Keeps us young and current.”

“Keeps us baffled is what it is,” Joe chuckled. “How those two young ones, Booker and Nile, keep up with technology and pop culture continually befuddles me.”

“Andy thinks it will be good in the long run. She’s said she’s too old and we will need Nile to lead when…when she is gone.”

The both sobered at the thought. While Andy’s mortality had been granted a temporary and undefined reprieve, she was still the oldest of them and closest to turning mortal one day.

“It will be hard when she is gone,” Joe observed quietly. “She is with us now, but one day she will not be. It will be the start of something new and terrifying. We have never not had Andy. None of us. She is our constant and it scares me to think of it.”

Nicky squeezed Joe’s arm in agreement, his own stomach turning and his chest aching at the thought. “That is why I think she has chosen Nile to be next in line. She is too young to be so set in what we have had centuries to grow used to. All the more reason to come alongside both Nile and Andy while they are both with us.”

Joe hummed in agreement, rubbing his nose affectionately into Nicky’s shoulder. Together, they stared out across the waters, letting the soothing lullaby of its motions center them. In those moments, their upended world righted, like a crooked door repaired so that it closed seamlessly into its doorway.

“We are going to mend things with our brother,” Nicky affirmed quietly, leaning back to rest his frame more fully against Joe’s broad chest.

“And we are going to help our older sisters heal,” Joe added.

“And help our little sister grow.” Nicky added. “And find her a sword.”

“That too,” Joe agreed happily.

A few minutes later, Nicky’s sharp eyes focused on a spot on the horizon. “There.” He pointed as a small speck of island grew larger at their approach. “It’s closer than I thought.”

Joe chuckled and brushed a kiss against Nicky’s temple. “Guess we aren’t so lost after all.” Nicky hummed in agreement.

**Author's Note:**

> -if i got any of the history wrong and you know it well, feel free to let me know. im shit at history, honestly. it always feels like a huge jumble of peoples and cultures and places i cant keep track of (says the girl who wants to write fanfic about immortals who have lived through ages of history...not making this easy on myself.)
> 
> \- i commiserate with Joe. I am terrible with directions. I'm the type of person to go to the bathroom in a restaurant and come out intending to return to my table, only to end up in the kitchen. 
> 
> \- i was excited to get to cover the final third of the vacationing duos! i wanted to get to see how Joe reacts to Booker returning and see how Nicky and Joe deal with life's events recently and together as a unit. 
> 
> Ive had relationships where after a long bout (years) of either disagreeing or separation or just distance, you worry how it will turn out when you pick up again. what nicky said about change was something that i had to learn. 
> 
> their worry over Andy being gone actually stemmed from my reluctance towards seeing her gone too in the franchise. I don't think im even ready to write something like that or to know how to yet.
> 
> -idk why i like the idea of Nile with a rapier, but im here for it. i plan to do some stories on the Guards' weapons, but who knows if i will stick with a rapier for nile, but TBD.
> 
> -every new years, me and my siblings have a tradition of meeting together in a coffee shop and each going over our year: the good, the bad, the victories, the struggles. the other siblings are allowed to ask questions and everyone can offer advice or encouragement. it is a place that we choose not to fight or storm away in anger, where feelings are valid but actions matter and behaviors are addressed. our phones are in the middle of the table with a box of tissue cause there is always tears. together, we decide how we want to approach the new year, as a family, as siblings, how we can help and support each other. its a tradition i deeply value and think its so important for growing and learning as a person and also caring for each other as a family. 
> 
> -i have plans for a side series to this main series. we will see how it turns out!


End file.
